


Nevermore

by kenwave



Series: Reaper76 Week - 2017 [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Kinda, M/M, Reaper76 Week
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 20:00:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9340985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenwave/pseuds/kenwave
Summary: He unfurls his fingers, finally glancing at the name engraved into the broken dog tag, maybe now he’d get a real name for the man behind the mask. He could use that against him.The name Jack reads is the last one he expects to see. The dog tag falls from his hand with a small clang, glowing eyes widen in shock.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Day 2: Role/Body Swap

Everything hurts. No matter how much or little he moves, the bone deep ache that has settled itself into his body never seems to go away, regardless of how much energy he has managed to siphon from other living beings. 

However, with all the pain that his state of unliving gives him, it does allow him to do things he never would have dreamt of beforehand. The most useful of his newfound abilities is being able to sense each unique energy pattern that everyone gives off; it makes tracking any one of his targets easier if he has encountered them before. Sure, it only really works accurately within a set radius, but that hasn’t hindered him in any way yet, and he won’t let it. 

Especially now when he has a specific man to hunt. A mercenary known as the Raven, currently in the pocket of Talon. The man’s been hunting down former Overwatch agents, leaving them a bloody mess in a pool of their own blood. His signature is several gashes along one side of the torso as if a large bird of prey had carried the person off, talons digging into skin. Their neck is normally snapped to accompany the sliced skin. 

He’s hot on the mercenary’s trail when he senses the mercenary’s energy fluctuating, his heart beating fast from the chase. He knows he’s being chased by someone but it doesn’t seem he knows the location of his assailant. 

All the better. Jack smiles, baring his teeth underneath the mask he wears concealing his identity, and the horror that is his face. 

He looks absolutely ghostly. Hair drained of any colour it had before, now a stark white against his ashen skin, his appearance similar to a zombie. White smoke billows from the large scar poking out from the top of the visor he wears to hide, the rest of his forehead normally hidden by a long hood. He’s losing control of himself in the thrill of the chase, normally keeping the scar from weeping with a great deal of control. 

Jack passes civilians as he runs, keeping to the shadows. They barely notice him go, too caught up in their own business as they chat amongst themselves in the light of the streetlamps. 

Soon enough, he arrives at the location. The bright red of the energy the Raven gives off is calling to him like a beacon. His form is pacing back and forth, and Jack can pick up traces of another person, their own life fading as he can see the aura they give off grow dimmer and dimmer. 

If he’s quick enough he can save what is undoubtedly another ex-Overwatch agent, dropping them off at the hospital, maybe using one of his biotic fields to patch them up in the meantime. 

With a great deal of focus, he breaks his body down into a cloud of nanites, swiftly entering the warehouse through a vent. 

The first time his body broke down into its smoky form isn’t one Jack likes to remember. Waking up in Angela’s private office, body breaking down as he watches, panic rising in his chest. Angela was able to calm him down before he completely turned to dust, explaining exactly what had happened, what she had done. 

Jack still can’t find it within himself to forgive her, but he can admit she’s been an invaluable ally through all of this, giving him injections to help keep his form stable every now and then, and researching possible solutions to his current predicament. 

He’s dragged from his reminiscing by the Raven’s scratchy voice. 

The man stands proudly, swathed in a black cloak covered in feathers, a mask that resembles his namesake on his face. Sharp talons adorn his fingertips, blood dripping off of them as he interrogates the man tied to a chair. 

A man Jack recognises as a former agent, who had retired before the Swiss HQ went up in flames. 

There are slashes in his side, blood oozes from the wounds down onto the dirty cement floor. Not as many adorn him as any of the Raven’s former victims - Jack assumes it’s his interrogation tactic. Inflict painful wounds in the victim’s side until the information he needs is released before ending the victim’s life completely with a snap of the neck. 

“Where are the files?” the Raven snarls, his fingers tracing one of the scabs beginning to form over what appears to be the oldest of the wounds. The sharp talons dig into it, tearing the clotted blood off, the agent winces, but remains silent. 

“Where. Are. The. Files?” the Raven repeats. The agent remains stubbornly silent. The mercenary lets out an angry growl before digging his talons into his side in anger, creating jagged cuts. The former agent yells. 

Alarm surges through Jack. Quickly he bursts from the vent, body forming back into what he assumes is its normal shape as he lands on the floor with a loud thud to attract the Raven’s attention.

“What now?” the Raven hisses, clearly unimpressed by Jack’s entrance. He’s standing at the ready, hands clutching the grips of his twin shotguns, pointing them directly at Jack, stance wide and strong. Something about the weapons and posture strike Jack as familiar, but he pegs it as coincidence. 

He charges at the man, who prepares for the impact. They tumble to the ground, Jack tearing the shotguns out of the Raven’s hands, throwing them to the side. Close quarters combat hadn't been his strong suit, but thanks to his new abilities, he has an edge that the mercenary does not. Easily, he slips through the man’s grip, dancing around him as the Raven rushes to the shotguns, letting out a shocked “what the fuck!?” 

With a quick roll, he picks one up, aiming it at Jack he shoots. But he turns to mist before the bullet can hit him. He hears the Raven growl and the mercenary rushes forwards, crashing into Jack he shoots the shotgun beside his ear. He flinches as the nanites that form his body rush to fix the damage done to his hearing. The Raven takes the opportunity to slash at Jack’s stomach with his sharp talons. The reinforced leather of his jacket is no match for the sharp metal that makes up the mercenary’s talons, he cuts through the layers, leaving marks on Jack’s torso. 

The Raven lifts up his leg, and kicks. A heavily armoured foot meets Jack’s chest with a surprising amount of strength for what he thought was a normal man. He slams into the chair with the agent, knocking them both into the wall. The chair snaps under the sudden pressure.

Jack groans, his body stiff from over exerting it, wood splinters falling from his body, he coughs. His nanites are running low on energy. He hasn’t fed them in a long time. By the time he manages to push himself to his feet, the Raven is gone. 

Something metallic glints in the dim lighting, glimmering beside the shotgun that is left behind. Curious, Jack steps over the splinters of the chair to examine the forgotten objects. 

First, he picks up the shotgun. It’s a familiar model, one he got to know intimately during his time in the military and with Overwatch. He commands his nanites to break it down, storing it away to examine later. The objects that really holds his interest, though, are the glinting metal. The first is a metal tag, the chain that it calls home probably damaged from their fight. Beside it rests something small and gold.

He picks up the shimmering yellow object first, a quick examination shows it’s a gold band, possibly a wedding ring. Curious, Jack pockets it. Why would a man like the Raven have that?  

Finally, his attention is brought to the scratched metal tag, picking it up, the weight and shape is familiar. A dog tag. The Raven used to be a military man it seems. Something both he and Jack have in common. He unfurls his fingers, finally glancing at the name engraved into the broken dog tag, maybe now he’d get a real name for the man behind the mask. He could use that against him. 

The name Jack reads is the last one he expects to see. The dog tag falls from his hand with a small clang, glowing eyes widen in shock. 

Staring up to him from its innocent place on the ground, engraved in the metal, his own information stares up at him. 

 

_ Morrison, Jack T. _

_ 315 66 3396 _

_ AB+  _

 

Why would the Raven have his dog tag? Panic flashes through him. There’s no way. No way he would have it. And what can he gain from it? His hand grasps at the empty chain around his neck, where his tags should be. Angela had told him she had found him with only one tag, sending it home to his parents as a form of closure, Jack’s body lost to them. The other was to be buried with his body, but, Angela had disclosed to him that his body had been found with only the one. 

He pulls out the chain from around his neck, unclasping it to place the dog tag in its proper home, against his heart.

He needs to find the Raven and get answers, he silently vows, hand clutching at the tag around his neck.

But before he can continue the chase, he needs to deal with his nanites. Without any new energy to sustain him, his body will break apart, old wounds reopening as nanites attempt to eat each other for sustenance. 

He sighs heavily, not knowing what to do for the energy when he notices it. Or, the lack of it.

Turning around, he sees the body of the ex-agent, unmoving on the floor, still tied to the broken chair. Energy stagnant around his motionless form. 

Jack feels a twinge of disappointment and anger at himself for not being able to save the man, but, the energy calls to him. It would be a shame to waste it, however. 

He approaches the body, the man’s eyes blink slowly, trying to say something, but Jack ignores his weak pleas. There’s no way anything he has on him can save this man, nor could a hospital. And it would be better if he didn’t die in vain. 

Jack kneels in front of the agent, examining his weathered features before he sees the ball form above his body. He doesn’t understand why that’s what the life energy does when someone dies, but he’s far too enraptured with it to question it. His gloved hands hover around the orb, as he pulls it toward his body, his nanites happily consuming the electricity human bodies produce that helps to sustain them. 

Some of his major aches and pains disappear, his form growing more solid, but the amount of energy he had taken from the old man can only keep him going for so long. 

He stands up, briefly glancing toward the shrivelled body, pressing his metal boot against the dead man’s chest. It’s a shame he couldn’t save him, but sacrifices must be made. And even though this man is dead, he can stop other former Overwatch agents from dying, as long as he can hunt down the Raven and bring his terror to an end. 

He brings his hand up to the tag around his neck once more. He has to. 

**Author's Note:**

> Unfortunately you'll have to wait a bit for the next chapter to come out. I have two more fics for R76 week to write as well as a portfolio to get started on so please be patient with me <3 I'll try my best to not have you wait so long though.
> 
> Thank you so much to [TimelessTragedy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TimelessTragedy/pseuds/TimelessTragedy) for the beta! 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr [here](http://eachael.tumblr.com/) if that's your thing.


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